


I Can't Sleep

by SpyderScully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Insomnia, MSR, The Season of Secret Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderScully/pseuds/SpyderScully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully can't sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Sleep

With a huff of frustration, she flounces onto her other side for the third time in fifteen minutes. Despite her light nighttime attire she's still too warm, despite her exhaustion after arriving back from a grueling case she's still mentally alert. Counting her breaths didn't work, mentally reciting the muscles of the human body didn't work, and flipping her pillow for the fourth time hadn't worked ANY of the times she'd done it.

With a frustrated groan, she flips over again, suddenly noticing a sliver of gold peeking from beneath the partially closed bedroom door. The living room lamp is on; he's still awake, too. 

With a defeated sigh, she whips the sheets aside, wriggling across the mattress until her bare feet touch the floor. She pads hazily down the hallway, knowing he'll hear her before he sees her. 

Her expectation is proven correct when she steps into the living room to find his head already lifting up to meet her gaze. He's settled in the reclining armchair, his long legs stretched out before him and a book cradled on his thighs. He gives her a small welcoming smile as she steps into the pool of soft light from the lamp.

"I can't sleep." She states, her small mumble the only precursor to her crawling into his lap and curling against his torso, snuggling her head against his chest. He says nothing, merely moving his book and allowing her to get comfortable before he wraps an arm around her. Her heart gives an uncharacteristic flutter when he squeezes her gently and wordlessly returns to his reading.

His free hand rests on the small of her back, drawing slow, soothing circles that make her ache with gratitude and affection. She allows her head to drop further down his chest, slipping her forearms between his back and the seat cushions. Every once and a while he gently scratches her back with his fingertips, or presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. The slow circles continue unabated. Neither speak; it's unnecessary anyway—the comfort is possible by the others mere presence. 

With his heartbeat beneath her ear and the quiet stillness of the room, she finds her eyes slowly drifting shut. The overheated feeling she had been experiencing only minutes ago has molded into a soft warmth, the restlessness of her mind becoming an ignoreable murmur in his arms. Drowsiness begins to curl around her.

She sighs, allowing contentment to lace the quiet expulsion of breath, and she hears his voice sleepily murmur, "I've gotcha."

The last thing Scully is aware of is the gentle thud of Mulder's book hitting the floor as it slips from his sleep-slackened fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> It'd be nice if I were actually capable of writing/finishing a full-length story instead of my usual little snippets, but what can I say? These things pop into my head and there's no stopping them.
> 
> This snippet is based on a drawing I recently did—it can be found here:  
> http://mostly-meggles.deviantart.com/art/I-Can-t-Sleep-Mulder-616082964


End file.
